


Nobody

by 0KKULTiC



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Churches & Cathedrals, Demon Hunters, Demon!Mingi, Fights, Fluff, Gen, Hunter!San, Knives, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Short, Short One Shot, Stabbing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: San was sent to the small town chapel to banish a pesky demon. The demon that he met completely defied all expectation.
Relationships: Choi San/Song Mingi
Comments: 23
Kudos: 95
Collections: /* 0KKULTiC HALLOWEEN 2k20 */





	Nobody

**Author's Note:**

> // WARNING(s): descriptions of violence, fighting, stabbing and knives, physical struggles, church setting, mention of religious artifacts/items
> 
> Written for Halloween With ATEEZ Day 3: Demon Hunter

San tempers his breath to be as quiet and unobtrusive as possible. He lurks in the shadows of the old chapel, eyes fixed on that single point - the offering sitting atop the altar. Moonlight beams through the old stained glass, painting swathes of color on the creaky, worn wooden floor. It’s the only source of light aside from the flickering candles beneath Mother Mary.

The hunter has been stalking the church for the past three nights to no avail. He received an order from his agent a week prior, a request from the local clergy to investigate strange, malevolent anomolies happening around their church. At first, they thought they had a burgalar problem, just a persistent human or even a prankster. However, after a week of missing offerings, plundered eucharistic wine and a vandalized tabernacle, they began to suspect a more supernatural cause. When prayer failed them, they called in the professionals.

Highly trained priests can exorcise a demon, yes, but what of one so powerful that it can exist without need of a human host?

That gap in power is filled by demon hunters. They exist in various factions - some moving like corporations, others freelance, some contracted more loosely by guilds. San is a part of the latter. The only common thread between them is their discretion. It’s a trade passed down through word of mouth and between generations. While some are scouted for having an aptitude, others are born in it like San. His father’s daytime dojo converted into a training facility at night - that’s how he got his start. Though lonely and grueling, San wouldn’t change it for the world. Typically, hunters are matched with a mark based on experience. The challenge with the current job, though, is that nobody has _seen_ the alleged demon at hand.

_Doesn’t matter_ , San thinks. _I can take an S-Mark, even if it’s above my rank._

Suddenly, the wooden floor groans, immediately stealing all of San’s focus. The hunter squints his eyes, trying to discern any possible movement through the darkness. Demons are masters of deception. Weaving illusions and jumping between shadows is their expertise, and most humans would never be able to detect their presence with the naked eye. San is trained, though, and when he notices a shadow cast by a pew warping slightly, he knows. He can feel it, the presence inside the room. The air chills, making goosebumps cover his skin.

The heavy odor of frankincense ought to cover his scent. He just hopes that this demon isn’t one of the smart ones. They tend to skew toward the brutish side, unsettled spirits that lost their humanity and became corrupt. The majority are single-minded, driven by instinct and hunger for one thing - be it sex, money, vengeance or even human souls. Sure, they may be capable of articulating language and some can even play human, but most of them lack the sophistication. Instead they rely on their might and powers to get what they want. Upon occasion, though, a really, genuinely smart one comes up. One that’s been around long, fed themselves well on their desires and relearned how the human world works. Those are the high marks, the dangerous ones they only let veterans go after.

_Are you sophisticated?_ San asks the other in his mind. Part of him hopes that his mark is one of the smart ones. He’s gotten so bored at B-rank. They insist on keeping them there because of his age, but he can do more. He knows he can. If he can take one down that qualifies A or higher, then maybe the boomers in the guild will actually listen to his appeals for a promotion.

The shadow shifts again, and San slowly reaches for the blessed dagger sheathed at his side. He gets a grasp on the handle, watching the demon’s movements carefully. The hunter suppresses an impressed gasp when the hellspawn emerges from behind a pillar, dark silhouette absolutely towering and broad. 

_Oh. This is gonna be fun._ San thinks excitedly.

The offering sits atop the altar yet undisturbed - the perfect bait, according to his research. For some reason, this particular demon has a penchant for spiriting away the body and blood of Christ. San wonders how smart the creature truly is. Will it realize that the very openly displayed sacrament is a trap? Or will its own anger and resentment blind it, making the offering irresistible?

Time to find out, San supposes.

As the demon emerges from the darkness, it’s true form begins to take shape. A long, piked tail and impressive wings stick out from its back. Large horns curl around the side of its head. San practically vibrates with excitement. There’s something satisfying about taking down an opponent larger than him, and this one looks _big_.

Finally, the demon steps into the light, stained glass rainbows painted all over it. Yet again, the hunter has to reign in his gut reactions. He holds back a gasp. What surprises him isn’t the size of the thing - though it is tall and broad - but the clothing it’s wearing. Or, more particularly: the fact that it’s clothed at all. The demon dons a baggy shirt and baggy pants, something San finds utterly strange. Unless they’re disguising themselves, the creatures seldom opt to bother with clothing. He can’t imagine to what end the demon would willingly don clothes - let alone such drab ones. Sure, a creature of avarice or even greed may covet fine garments, but an oversized t-shirt with rips in the back and sweats?

How strange.

The demon gazes across the church, causing San to tense for a moment. He holds statue still while the other scans the area. For a second, the other’s dark eyes stop in San’s direction. The hunter’s blood toils and turns - part terrified, part electrified. Has he been caught? Some demons are gifted with exceptional eyesight. He could very well be spotted. 

When the demon moves on, relief floods the hunter. His mark approaches the altar, eyeing the offering almost as if appraising it. Does he know? San uses the opportunity to shift around a little. He figures getting behind the creature would best suit his approach - use surprise, kill before the other can retaliate. This one doesn’t look easy, that’s for sure. He can use all the advantage he can get.

San risks making noise and steps carefully through the shadows to get around the large demon. In the light, San can better discern this one’s distinguishing features. His tail, wings and even the carapace of his horns are a fleshy, pink hue. He’s never seen one with such light coloration before. Even its appendages and body imitate human flesh. Yet, he doesn’t appear to be in disguise. Is he casting glamors? Or is his form truly so… Similar to man?

The hunter mentally pats himself on the back when he finds the perfect position. He manages to wedge himself against a wall dangerously close to the demon’s tail. It gives him the perfect view of the creature’s broad back - and with it, the perfect place to strike. San decides to allow the other a few moments of respite - of false security - before jumping in. He has no idea what to expect when the thing learns of his presence. They’re liable to do anything from slinging fire to causing thunder to crash down.

_What flavor of danger are you?_ San wonders eagerly.

The demon reaches out toward the offering, his claws just barely grazing the sacrament, and that’s when San chooses to pounce.

Silently, he launches himself toward the other, using the wall behind him to propel himself. He lands on the demon’s back with ease, wrapping one arm around its neck while using the other to handle his dagger.

The creature lets out a surprised yelp and jolts. San’s grip is firm, though, and he poises the dagger between the humanoid creature’s shoulder blades with ease.

“Aaahhhh!” The demon screams, tail lashing. “Get off of me!”

  
San was so confident about his grip before, but another jerky movement sends him flying onto the floor. He doesn’t have time to think as the proceeding moments move in a blur. THe demon makes a break for the exit. It jumps, beating its large wings to help propel itself. But San is quick to recover. Never one to stay down long, he just jumps onto the other again. 

Surprsiingly, his weight manages to catch the thing off balance, and he manages to get it on the floor. 

“Ahhh! N-No!” The demon shouts and flails as San manhandles it. He presses his blessed dagger against the demon’s back, searing its skin. “Aaaaaaaahhhh! Ouch! S-Stop! Please, it hurts!”

It’s not uncommon for the creatures to employ manipulative tactics. The tears don’t phase San, and the lifts the dagger again, preparing to stab. 

  
The demon struggles, nearly taking San off balance again. They toss and turn, grappling awkwardly. One, desperately trying to get away while the other tries to wrest them near. The demon nearly wiggles away, but it’s not one of the smart ones. San is too canny to be beat and quickly finds his way on top of the other again. He straddles the beast, driving the dagger through its arm until the blade sheathes into the wood floor below.

Apparently, that’s the demon’s limit because it suddenly becomes very, very docile. The pitiful creature stops struggling, body shuddering beneath the hunter. In spite of everything, its other fist remains shut tight. The offering, San realizes.

“Let it go,” San insists. It’s not as if the church intends to reuse demon-tainted sacrament, but it’s the principle of the matter. The creature can’t be allowed to have what it wanted. The demon simpers pathetically, eyes squeezed shut and shaking like a leaf.

Pathetic.

San draws another dagger from his holster and bares it threateningly, “Let it go, demon.”

“Y-Yes, sir!” The demon whimpers and hesitantly opens its shaky fist. The host crumbles pathetically onto the demon’s baggy shirt, pulverized by the creature’s strong grip. 

San glares at the thing. Confident of his advantage, he takes a moment to catch his breath and assess the situation. At no point does the creature struggle. It simply cowers _._ In all his years of training and work on the field, never has he ever met such a sad, sad demon. The hunter wonders if it’s a ruse. Perhaps the creature simply wants to lull him into a false sense of security.

“You are the most pathetic excuse of a demon I’ve ever known,” San hisses, pressing his second dagger to the creature’s chest.

“Th-Then maybe you don’t have to- to do this,” Its voice is husky, surprisingly so. “I-I’m not different than you, really. J-just a young guy trying to make his way-”

“Shut up!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Trying to what? Terrorize holy ground? Threaten the clergy?”

“Wh… Wha-? What are you- y-you talking about?” The demon siffles.

San just barely pokes the tip of his dagger into the demon’s chest, “Do you think I’m a moron?”

“Ah-!”

“Or do you mean to say that you destroy the sacrament for fun?” He digs it in just a little further.

The demon lets out a cry, “Ah-ff-! I- I was just- I was hungry and I like the crackers.”

“The- The what?”

“The crackers are good. Kinda stale, but- and, well, the wine sucks. But I’m-”

“Alright. I’m getting bored,” San sighs. He lifts the dagger, readying himself to drive it into the creature’s chest.

“Wait- Please- I-I- Swear, I’m-”

A thunderous groaning noise cuts through the commotion, stopping San in the middle of his stabbing motion. It happens again, a rumbling sounding out from below the hunter. After a couple of seconds, San realizes the source of the noise.

“Is that your… Your stomach?”

“M-make it fast, please,” The demon sniffs resignedly. A tear rolls down his cheek, and his body goes slack, surrendering.

San knows damn well that demons employ methods of manipulation to wear down a human target. Yet, he can’t shake something itching in his intuition, something telling him that this demon is being genuine. He tosses and toils, tactical knowledge and soft heart battling it out in his mind.

He tightens his grip on his dagger, knowing that there’s only one thing to do.

* * *

“I-Is that for me?” The demon asks, jaw dropped in awe and eyes twinkling mirthfully. 

San extends the box of fried chicken toward the demon, and he takes it in his clawed hands as one would a newborn. It’s a damn comical sight - a tall, broad demon scrunched over in the passenger seat of a sudan, on the precipice of tears at the mere sight of chicken.

He asks politely,“C-Can I-?”

“Go ahead,” San chuckles as he gets into the driver’s seat.

The demon bounces happily, shaking the entire car, before digging in gleefully. In seconds, his cheeks are full of chicken. San takes a second just to watch before eating himself. He’s still taken aback, in utter awe of the creature beside him - of what happened back at the church.

Something in San told him not to go through with it. It would’ve been easy. Honestly, the demon truly is pitiful. In spite of his stature, he’s got the fighting spirit of a cotton ball. San knew damn well it was a risk, and part of him remains a bit on edge, paranoid. Ultimately, his intuition informed him of the right course, and he trusted his gut more than anything. It’s what got him to B-rank after a mere two years in the first place. In spite of the circumstances, he wasn’t going to distrust it.

He took pity on the tragic demon and, somehow, that ended with the two of them driving to the fried chicken chain San likes.

“Thank you so, so much,” The demon beams between bites. Though the lights coming in from the parking lot aren’t bright, San notices the demon’s coloring flushing with life. “Mm! It’s so-” (He takes a bite.) “-so, good!”

“Ah- Yeah, I like this place a lot. Their garlic flavor is my favorite,” San chuckles. His emotions swing between contentment and dread. He’s dedicated his entire life to killing demons, and now he’s eating dinner with one. “Say… Do you- do you have a name?”

“Mingi!” The demon replies cheerfully between bites.

“Ah. You can call me San. It’s…”

_What am I doing?_ He wonders.

A demon is a demon, no matter what. Even if they are meek and cowardly, they remain a menace to humanity.

_Right?_

“Is something the matter?” The demon’s question breaks through San’s thought.

“Huh?”

“You’re not eating anything. Does it taste bad?” He speaks so casually, licking some sauce off of one of his claws. One of his razor sharp, could-easily-slit-San’s-throat claws.

“N-No. I just, um, I ate before, so I guess I’m not hungry,” San lies. _Why? Why am I lying? Why do I want to reassure him?_

_Why is he so pathetic? So pitiful and helpless?_

_Why is he so… So human?_

“Where do you live?” San asks, closing up his box. He’ll eat it later.

“Hm?”

“Or- I guess- Where should I drop you off? Do you have a dwelling of some sort or do you just fly through?”

“Oh. Yeah, my house- well, I, um, I dunno a numbers address, but it’s kinda in the area of the church. Drive that way and I can show you,” The demon replies.

San starts going back toward the church. The demon directs him using visual landmarks “turn this way at that sign”, “take a right up where that tree is” - until landing San down a dark, deserted dirt road. There’s a few houses here and there, but it mostly seems barren, a bastion of untouched woodland not yet cut down and shaped into suburbs. 

“This is it,” Mingi says, pointing ahead.

San’s gaze follows the demon’s gesture to find a worn gravel drive. He slows to a stop, squinting to make out the shape of the house in the darkness. It appears dilapidated, an old condemned house in absolute shambles. Overgrowth nearly swallows the place whole. Rotting plywood covers the windows and the door hangs askew on its hinges. The place looks liable to flatten at the slightest provocation.

“A house?” The hunter asks. Mentally mapping out his drive, he realizes that the woods behind the bungalow flank the church grounds. Convenient.

“Yeah! Nobody’s in there, so I figured why not me? Beats getting wet in the rain! Though it does get a bit cold.”

“Cold?” _Do demons even get cold?_ San wonders.

“Well, yeah. There’s holes all over the place.”

“Oh.” The hunter doesn’t know what else to say.

“W-Well, thank you for, uh, not killing me, I guess,” The demon chuckles sheepishly, scratching his nape. “And thanks for the chicken, San! It really was good!” He starts to open the door. His attempt at getting out - horns, wings and all - is rather fumbling. San questions how the other squeezed into his car in the first place. He’s pretty sure it required some pushing.

“Mingi, wait,” San says.

The demon halts, “Hm?”

“This may be a… A funny question, but- do you- do you get cold?”

“Oh. Um…” He hesitates a little before answering. “Not really, I guess. Not physically. But I feel it in another way. Like, a cool breeze blows by and I guess I feel like- like it should be cold. So it is. Does that make sense?”

“Is that why you wear clothes?”

“Huh?” The demon gasps, scandalized. “Why… Wouldn’t I wear clothes? Being naked would be indecent. Do you think I’m some kind of pervert?”

“Decency?! That’s your concern?”

“I mean! I- I can’t just walk around naked.”

“Who would see?”

“Nobody! But if somebody does, I wouldn’t want to leave a bad impression.”

“Doesn’t stealing blessed sacraments from a church leave a bad impression?” San deadpans.

“Wh- W-well- I- It’s close and convenient! I’d walk right in during the daytime if I could.”

“You would walk right into a _church_?” The hunter asks in utter disbelief. “Mingi, do you know what you are?”

The other frowns, and things go quiet for a moment.

“A monster,” He says softly.

San’s heart falls a little bit. _That’s what he is, isn’t it? A monster._

“That’s why you were sent to kill me, right?” Mingi asks.

San nods affirmatively.

“How come you didn’t? You looked really scary for a while, then you backed off at the last second. I thought I was done for.”

“The truth is, I like my work,” San shrugs. “I enjoy ridding the world of awful monsters and knowing that people can have peace. But… You’re not a monster. You didn’t fight back even the slightest. You just asked me to make it quick. It was like you wanted me to do it.”

Mingi doesn’t answer.

“You’re alone, aren’t you?” San asks.

The demon nods solemnly.

“If I had to guess, you picked those clothes from the donation bin and have been swiping the sacrament from the chapel to sustain yourself - not to stick it to the believers or anything.”

“Can’t exactly walk up to a counter and order a sandwich like this,” The demon attempts a joke, but his expression is crestfallen.

“Most demons are creatures of excess. They’re gluttonous and greedy, taking everything they want and then some. You… You’re just trying to get by.”

“I- I like to think I’m succeeding,” Mingi tries lightening things again.

San chuckles, “Yeah, well, you have to stop breaking into that church. Those wafers aren’t there to be a snack, you know. I get it’s easy food for you, but to them it is sacred. Also your wafer habit is what caused them to call me in the first place. Stale crackers are _not_ worth your life.”

“I guess. I’m open to suggestions, then,” The demon pouts. “Maybe I’ll learn how to hunt or forage or something… Thank you for your mercy, San. You probably have to go home, though. Um, have a safe drive home.”

Again, the demon moves to get out of the car. It’s a bit of an awkward dance to get out of hte passenger seat. He very nearly leaves, too. He’s just got one foot in the car when a gust of wind blows by. The strength of it makes the trees bend and the air whistle. For a second, San is terrified Mingi’s house will crumble to the ground right then and there. Some parts of it shake, but it somehow manages to pull through just barely.

“Mingi- Wait-!” San calls out again.

The demon turns around, confused, “Hm?”

* * *

San sighs, throwing his bag of equipment onto the ground. Normally, he’d shower before passing out, but the night ran later than expected, and he’s damn tired. He’ll have to type up his report in the morning and meet with the clergy. They’ll be happy to hear that their demon problem is gone. The hunter decides to freshen up a little bit in the bathroom, washing his face and changing into sleep clothes.

“Sorry,” San says when he returns to the motel room. “There’s only one bed in here, but it’s pretty big. You should fit comfortably- ah!”

A thick, muscular tail coils around his waist and yanks him toward the bed. The human stumbles onto the mattress and quickly finds himself tangled in the blankets, pressed flush to Mingi’s side.

“I think we can both fit,” He murmurs sleepily.

“O-Okay,” San responds, heat rushing to his cheeks as the other wiggles even more close. A few moments pass in utter silence, and San whispers: “Mingi, are you asleep?”

He gets no response.

The demon isn’t breathing, so it’s hard to tell if he’s really settled, but he certainly seems to be at rest. San decides not to question it, instead settling against the other in a comfortable position. Mingi is warm. Very warm. It’s like being swaddled by a fleshy furnace - a sensation that sounds immensely uncomfortable but is actually isn’t that bad.

“Good night,” San mutters before drifting off to sleep. He’s aware that the other could snap his neck in his sleep if he so chose. Mingi could pierce his trachea with his sharp claws or twist his head around if he wanted to.

But, something about the way he softly snores against San’s nape tells the hunter that he won’t.

San knows his decision will bear consequences. The Guild can never know what he did that night - his act of mercy, befriending a demon. He knows he’ll have to cover his tracks. Thankfully, that’s something he’s versed well in. A lot of the skills he learned to kill demons, he’ll now have to use to protect one.

He’s not sure what will become of this strange new alliance he’s created. What will it entail? How will it end?

All he knows is that Mingi was alone, so alone that he didn’t care what happened to him.

And, demon or not, nobody deserves to feel completely alone.

Nobody.


End file.
